


feeble disguise

by sapphirestylan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, sad/incomplete ending :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirestylan/pseuds/sapphirestylan
Summary: niall's getting engaged. harry's still in love with him.





	feeble disguise

**Author's Note:**

> i got sent a fic title using a hozier lyric generator which was 'feeble disguise' and this is the result!!

“I think I’m gonna propose.” 

It’s almost funny, the way every bone in Harry’s body freezes up, the way his mouth falls open. How he nearly stops breathing. 

Almost. 

Niall sighs and sinks back into the couch, oblivious as he stares off into the distance. “I don’t know, man, like - I think she’s the one.” 

The words pour over him thickly, sticking to his skin like honey. But it’s not sweet, no, it’s a devastatingly sharp, acridly bitter thing that cuts through to the quick of him, leaves him feeling like his whole world’s disintegrating into ash.  _ She’s the one.  _

Not him. He’s never been that for Niall, not now, not ever. It was just a useless pipe dream of his, one that he allowed to fester for too long, and now it feels like it’s killing him. Like Niall’s just plunged a six inch knife into his chest and twisted it 180 degrees. And he can tell by the look in Niall’s eyes that he’s dead serious, that this isn’t a joke. 

He tries his best to mask it, to recover. He clears his throat and wets his lips, getting ready to speak, because he has to say  _ something _ before it’s too late. “That’s - that’s really great, Niall.” He goes to say  _ I’m happy for you,  _ but the words get stuck in his throat, choking him. 

Niall looks at him curiously; his palms start to grow slick. Niall’s always been able to see through him, something that’s never been so terrifying to him as it is now. 

“Thanks,” Niall says lightly, finally. “Are you alright? You look a bit.” He waves his hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Sick.” 

Harry can’t help but cough out a laugh, because  _ sick  _ isn’t even the half of it. He’s never been in more acute pain in his life, and his body’s responding to it, making his gut churn and his chest tight. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, the same way it’s getting harder and harder to keep his cover. “Must have been something I ate,” he lies, digging his blunt fingernails into the meat of his palm to try and distract him. “‘Scuse me, I’ve got to-” 

He lurches to his feet and stumbles towards the bathroom, tears blurring his vision the second Niall’s behind him. 

He doesn’t know how he could have been so fucking  _ stupid _ , to never seriously entertain the possibility before. Niall’s been in a good, steady relationship for years, of  _ course _ he’s in love with her, of  _ course  _ he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Why would he ever consider anything else? Why would he ever think his best friend would want otherwise for him? 

If he wanted him he should have said it five years ago. If he wanted him he should have grown a pair and taken the risk while he had the chance. But he didn’t, and now it’s too late. 

He locks the bathroom door behind him with shaking hands and leans over the sink, tears already streaming down his face and dripping on the clean white countertop. His ribs ache with the force of his sobs, and he can’t think straight, too many panicky thoughts racing around his skull and making it throb. He hazards a glance up at himself in the mirror and it only makes him cry harder; his eyes are growing red, skin splotchy, hair disheveled. The very image of heartbreak. 

‘Heartbreak’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, though. There isn’t a way to describe the overwhelming regret and the guilt and the fear and the grief he’s experiencing all at once, no way to even parse out one emotion from the other. 

And God knows he’s being selfish. God knows he should be happy for Niall, or at the very least try.  

He squeezes his eyes shut, white-knuckling the edge of the countertop. He attempts to reason with himself, tries to calm his own stuttering heartbeat. _ It won’t be that bad. It’s not the end of the world. You’ll be alright. You’ll move on.  _ He pictures himself giving a speech as best man. He pictures himself watching Niall slide a ring onto someone else’s finger. He pictures the love of his life promising himself to a person that isn’t him. 

Sour saliva pools suddenly in his mouth, and he scrambles to the open toilet just as he begins to vomit whatever’s left of his empty stomach, eyes still burning with tears. 

There’s a loud knock at the door. 

“ _ Haz?”  _

A minute passes, or maybe five, he can’t tell. He brings himself to his feet slowly, flushes the toilet, twists the tap on with trembling fingers and splashes cold water on his face. He rinses out his mouth. 

_ “Harry, are you alright?”  _

He keeps quiet, because that’s something he’s good at. He dries his hands and his face, scrapes his hair back from his forehead and tries to look like he hasn’t been crying. He counts his breaths. In, and out. In, and out. In, and

_ “Harry!”  _

He opens the door, and Niall startles, like he hadn’t been expecting it. 

“I’m okay,” Harry says, a bit proud of how even his voice comes out. “I just threw up. Told you it was something I ate.” He pushes past him down the hallway, heading back towards the kitchen. He hears Niall trail behind him. 

“But are you sure you’re alright?” 

If Harry had the guts, he’d turn around and tell him the truth. 

_ No, I’m not alright. No, I don’t feel like I’ll ever be alright again.  _

_ Yes, I’m in love with you. Yes, you’re everything to me and no I don’t want to see you get married and no I’ve never been brave enough to tell you how I feel and yes I’m being selfish and yes I know you love her and no I don’t think I’ll ever move on even though I know that’s true- _

“I’m fine,” he says. Lies taste like acid when they slip so easily through your teeth. “I told you that already.” 


End file.
